


words like a knife

by storiesfortravellers



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Gen or Slash, M/M, Memory Alteration, Possibly self-destructive behavior, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2015-03-27
Packaged: 2018-03-19 20:42:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3623652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesfortravellers/pseuds/storiesfortravellers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Winter Soldier joins SHIELD, but he doesn't remember Steve (at least not the way Steve wants).</p><p>For this prompt at comment-fic:<br/><i>Bucky + Steve, (post Cap2) it turns out freedom ain’t nothing but missing you</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	words like a knife

"He says that he is willing to be an asset for SHIELD. He claims that he has taken out all the HYDRA bases he knows about and needs our resources to find the rest."

"Is he - okay?" Steve asked.

Maria sighed. "The psych experts don't really agree on that. It's... an unprecedented case."

"Does he remember me?"

"It's not clear."

"Did he ask to see me?" Steve said.

"No. But he did ask if you were here."

"I need to talk to him."

Maria frowned, then nodded. "His psychologists aren't sure that's a good idea. But if you're supervised, we'll make it happen, Steve."

"Thank you," he said, gratitude brimming.

"If he doesn't try to kill anyone, we'll consider it a success," she added, her _don't get your hopes up_ clear as day.

He just nodded.

\--

"Are you being treated well?" Steve said, trying not to seem emotional. The psychologists had warned him not to say anything that could set the Winter Soldier off.

He eyed Steve, then leaned back into his chair, slouching almost. "Ask me what you really want to ask me."

Steve swallowed. "Do you... remember anything?"

"I remember you saving my life in DC."

Steve nodded, tried not to look disappointed.

"I've been to the Smithsonian. I know this body belonged to your friend. I know you saved me because you're hoping he's still in here."

Steve's jaw tightened. "I'm happy you're here no matter what. Is that... is that all you remember?"

He was silent for several minutes it felt, and Steve was about to apologize for asking when he finally answered, "I remember facts. Little pieces of James Barnes' life."

"That's great."

He looked at Steve, leaned forward a little, eyes narrowed. "I remember things that happened. Just a few things. But it's... like watching a movie where it happens to someone else."

"Okay," Steve said, trying to keep his voice even.

"It's like, I know what James Barnes did, and I know what he felt about it, but it's like knowing the square root of four or something. I remember that James Barnes had a mother and sisters, that he had friends, that he had... you. But I don't... feel anything when I remember."

"Oh," Steve said, feeling like he was going to throw up.

"I remember you and him at the beach. You two skipped algebra to go to the shore. I know that this happened. But it's just... information."

"Well, um, that's okay," Steve said, forcing a smile.

"I'm not him, is what I'm getting at. Your friend is gone, Steve. I'm sorry."

Steve didn't change his expression. "Well, we're uh... still very glad to have you on the team." He rushed out before he could say anything else.

\--

He doesn't like being called Barnes, so SHIELD designates him as Agent 10 and tells him to pick any name he likes.

 

He thinks Agent 10 suits him just fine.

Steve hates it, hates that after decades as the Asset, Bucky is now just a number. But it's not his choice.

It's Agent 10's choice.

The team is wary at first, but Agent 10 proves himself in battle again and again. Ruthlessly efficient but only targets those that SHIELD wants targeted. Precise, unafraid, as fast as Steve but less likely to question orders.

Fury and Hill are suspicious (always, of everyone), but even they are impressed. 

Agent 10 becomes more casual as the months pass, and soon he has charmed much of the team. The occasional blank, empty stares don't seem to bother them.

10 takes orders from Steve, follows them well, seems happy to, as long as Steve doesn't slip up and call him "Bucky."

Steve and 10 never talk about anything but the mission.

Steve tells himself that everything is fine as long as Bucky is alive.

\--

"How come you never go out to eat with the team after a battle?" Steve asked him one day.

"I didn't realize socializing was mandatory."

"It's not! I would never force you to socialize if you weren't ready!"

Ten grinned and Steve rolled his eyes.

"I'm not that delicate, Steve," Ten said.

"Fine. I just wondered... is it because I'm there?"

"What do you mean?"

"If it makes you uncomfortable to be around me, then...."

Ten raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about, Rogers?"

Steve frowned. "I know you think I... have expectations of you. I just want you to know, I don't. I mean, I don't want you to feel like I am upset about... anything."

Ten stared. "You don't want me to think you're still trying to find your friend."

"I, uh...."

"But you are."

"No, I-"

Ten sighed. "I'm not upset, Steve. I get it. He meant a lot to you. It must be tough, seeing me, thinking of him."

"No, I'm really glad you're here, Ten."

"But you haven't given up on the idea that one of these days I'll be Bucky."

Steve paused.

"It's okay," Ten said. "I remember how stubborn you were. But I also remember how often you got into fights you couldn't win."

"I did just fine," Steve objected.

 

"You did just fine because your bigger, stronger friend would intervene," Ten pointed out. Steve winced; there was no malice there, not even any ego -- it was just a recitation of events, a statement of logical fact.

"But this isn't some bully in Brooklyn," Ten continued, "And this isn't even a superpowered Nazi. You keep fighting to get a glimpse of Bucky. But he's not there, Steve. You're not fighting an enemy, you're fighting reality. And that's gonna go bad for you, Steve." He looked at Steve, tone rich with concern, and it sounded so familiar that Steve's stomach wrenched.

"Well, if I, um, if I, uh, can't see my old friend, I can make a new one. And I want to be friends with you. Ten."

Ten frowned, like he didn't believe a word of it. But he said, "Okay. Fine. I'll go on the damn team dinners if it'll make you shut up about it."

Steve grinned, like that was his plan all along.

\--

Months passed, then more. HYDRA was getting weaker and weaker, and Ten was integrating more and more into 21st century life. He moved out of the SHIELD facility to his own (monitored) apartment. He went to movies with Natasha and Clint. He talked to Sam when he needed to talk, and he went to Bruce when he needed someone to sit in silence with. Truthfully, he was learning the elusive 'normal life' bit a lot better than Steve was.

He still avoided Steve sometimes, but other times they made small talk, then hung out sometimes in groups. Eventually, they got to the point where they almost seemed easy around each other.

One day, Ten said, "You didn't ask me this year." 

"What?" Steve said.

"Last year. You asked if I wanted to celebrate James Barnes' birthday."

"Yeah. Sorry about that. But you know I -- I mean, I accept who you are, Ten. You get that, right?"

"Sure."

"I understand now. Really. I know you're not Bucky."

"You wish I could be him, though."

Steve sighed. "Yeah, I miss him, but I know he's not coming back."

"I know it would be better for you. If he were here. And I were gone."

Steve leaned back. "That's not what I meant--"

"It's okay," he answered, his stare blank. "I understand. Your friend, he... he seems like he was a really good guy."

"He was the best."

Ten nodded, then looked down.

\--

Ten knocked on Steve's apartment door. 

"Do you have any food?"

"What?"

"All I have is healthy crap at my place. I asked Pepper to set me up with a meal service and it's all healthy food. Do you have any junk?" Ten asked.

"Umm... I have some cookies?"

"You mind?"

"Sure," Steve said, still confused. He wandered into the kitchen and handed Ten a half-full box of Girl Scout cookies. 

"Seriously?"

"They're delicious and support a good cause and if you mock me I will tell Natasha, and Natasha buys 17 boxes of Thin Mints every year," Steve said pointedly, and Ten grinned and put his hands up in mock-surrender.

"Mmm, these are good," Ten said, trying the chocolate peanut butter cookie as he plopped down on Steve's couch.

"So... is that really why you came over?" Steve asked.

 

Ten shrugged. "Want to watch TV?"

"I um... I just have some bills to pay. Then I'll join you."

Ten nodded, then grabbed the remote as if it were natural, as if he had ever been to Steve's place before at all, and turned on the television. Steve went back to the table where he was working.

Soon, Ten was watching a cooking show with the volume set to 100.

"Can you turn that down please?" Steve yelled over the noise.

"Why? It doesn't take that much concentration to do bills."

Steve frowned. He walked over, muted the television, then said, "Look, I _really_ need to get some things done."

Ten popped another cookie into his mouth.

"Just keep it a little lower, please," Steve said, then turned to walk away.

"I know what you're doing."

Steve turned back around. "What?"

"I know what you're doing." Ten stared at him.

"What am I doing?" Steve said testily, wondering if he were about to be accused yet again of yearning for Bucky.

"You're writing letters to the families of the people who were killed today."

Steve was silent. He sat down. "How did you know?"

"Because I know you," Ten said, nonchalant almost, like there was nothing strange about this conversation. "I may not be him, but I have his memories. More of them every day, in fact."

"Oh."

"You don't need to do it. Write the letters. It's stupid."

"I'm sure they don't care about some letter from a stranger, but it's the least I can do for--"

"Of course they care. Captain America writing a personal letter of condolence in their time of pain. Of course that means something to people."

"Then why-"

"Because it's not your job. A giant sea monster attacked the city. Your team killed it. Job done. You're not responsible for everyone who was killed by some mad scientist's monster before you even got there on the scene."

"Their deaths happened on my watch."

"Have you lost your fucking mind, Steve? Your watch? The whole world is not your watch. You want to be nice and send letters, fine, but doing it out of guilt? Really fucked up, Steve."

"You didn't mind when I sent letters to the people killed by stray fire in France."

Ten stared at him.

Steve's eyes widened. "Bucky didn't mind. I didn't mean you - I meant-" Steve closed his eyes.

 

"It's okay. I'm not mad. I just... this idea you have, that everything's on your shoulders. I know your friend put up with it. But I won't."

Steve nodded, grateful to avoid a fight. "I ... appreciate that you're trying to help. But I'd really like to finish those letters. It's not out of guilt, okay?"

Ten nodded. "Okay. But if it's not out of guilt, then you'll let me help you write them."

Steve smiled. "Thanks."

\--

A day after SHIELD psychologists give Agent 10 high ratings for stability and mental health, citing a remarkable recovery and 2 years of flawless service, Agent 10 punches Steve Rogers in the face.

Bruce and Tony are on another continent, and Thor is off world, and so when HYDRA makes a last ditch effort to not go gentle, Steve, Ten, Natasha, Clint, and Sam lead the charge against them.

It's bad, and then it gets worse.

They're cornered, most of their agents down. Sam and Clint are grounded, shooting despite the bullets in their arm and thigh, respectively. And then a gun comes out, clearly some adaptation of alien tech.

They can all hear it powering up, red lights pulsing from its center.

 

Steve leaps onto a nearby wall, making himself an easy target to make sure nobody else took whatever the gun sent.

It shoots; Steve dodges, barely, and the wall shatters into a thousand pieces, then implodes into nothing.

It shoots again, misses, but hits a structural support of the building behind and sends three tons of rubble onto him.

It's aimed at him again, and he can't move.

And then the gun is a hundred feet in the air. And then it explodes.

Thirty seconds later, every HYDRA agent there is dead. Agent 10 shot his way past their line and set off their own bombs. He pulled Steve out of the rubble and the two of them had barely got their own people out in time.

Their team works together, as always, and soon they're safe.

And then Agent 10 punches Steve Rogers in the jaw.

"What in the living hell is wrong with you?" Ten yells.

"I was doing my job!" Steve counters, as the rest of them watch, hands resting lightly on weapons just in case.

"You almost got yourself killed! Are you really that much of an idiot!?"

"I did what had to be done for the team! That's what I do! I thought you said you remembered things about me!" Steve yelled back, rubbing his jaw.

"You know what I remember about you?" Ten seethed. "I remember you getting your ass beat in every alley way in Brooklyn! I remember finding out you got pumped full of chemicals as a reward for jumping on a damn grenade! I remember you running headfirst into ever bad idea that you could find, and I don't know why the hell this Barnes guy bothered to save your ass so many times. I don't know what he felt for you that would make him follow your dumb ass anywhere! I sure as hell don't see why he would!"

"Well, nobody asked you to feel a damn thing," Steve said, voice cracking even as he glared.

"You ask for it every damn day! You keep waiting for the dead to come back to you! You're stubborn and fucking reckless in the field and then you spend every night alone wishing for shit that's not coming back. And it's pathetic! And maybe the old guy would try to make it all better, maybe he felt obligation to your angry fucking sadness, but I don't feel that for you, Steve! You're pathetic, and all I ever feel for you is pissed off or pity!"

Steve stared at him, said nothing. He looked like one more word would crack him like glass.

"And then," Ten continued, "And then...." He trailed off, his face contorted, until he wrenched his expression back into place. He glared at Steve then, eyes full of danger, looking so much like the Asset that everyone watching tensed. "And then you risk your life like an idiot. And then something snaps. And I feel like if anything happened to you, I would burn down _the world_."

Steve looked at him, confused.

"Can you explain that to me?" Bucky continued, yelling again, eyes suddenly wild. "Can you explain that?"

"We-- we'll figure it out," Steve said, sensing the flight, the run, tensing Bucky's legs.

"I don't want to be him, Steve," Bucky said, shaking his head. He turned around.

"Wait-" Steve said, but Bucky was running, fast, too fast for anyone but Steve to follow.

A mile away, Steve yelled "I can't! I can't!"

Bucky stopped, hesitated, then turned around. "What?"

"I can't survive it," Steve said, panting. "I can't survive losing you again!"

"You did before," he answered, voice cold. "You'll do it again. Just like last time."

"No, I won't." Tears were falling down Steve's face, and he didn't care.

"Steve--"

"I can't do it without you, Buck!-- I mean Ten- I mean-"

"I'll come back."

Steve stared, speechless. Finally, he said, "Promise me. Swear on the ocean like we did when we were kids."

"Swear." Bucky's blank stare was back, cold nothing, but for once Steve didn't care. Bucky added,"Just ... don't do anything stupid 'til I come back."

Steve smiled at him. He watched then, as Bucky turned away, as he ran, miles and miles, and disappeared over the horizon.


End file.
